John Eliot Gardiner literally has a lifetime of intimate familiarity with J.S. Bach's six motets without independent instrumental accompaniment; he reports that as a boy chorister of 11 or 12 he knew the treble lines to all of them. That familiarity is evident in these exceptionally insightful and exceptionally well-sung performances with the Monteverdi Choir. The group lives up to its reputation as being in the very highest echelon of choirs worldwide, singing these especially treacherous works with almost superhuman precision, immaculate tone and balance, and infectious, unguarded passion. The singers handle Bach's exquisitely interwoven counterpoint with apparent ease even at the outrageously fast but emotionally appropriate tempos that Gardiner takes. He avoids the academic rigidity that can easily prevail in performances of counterpoint this intricate by always maintaining a dancing sense of lightness and buoyancy. The performances are also characterized by a warm intimacy. That's due at least in part the choir's remarkable control of dynamics; at its quietest moments the music comes across as an almost hushed whisper. That, in combination with the stellar engineering, creates the impression that the listener is being treated to a private performance by singers nearly close enough to reach out and touch. At the same time there is no sense of crowding and the performers have plenty of room for their singing to ring out brilliantly. Gardiner deploys a small continuo group colorfully but discreetly, offering an ideally balanced underpinning for the choir. Listeners who want to hear these small masterpieces need look no further than these exemplary and thoroughly engaging performances. Highly recommended. © TiVo

Valentin Tournet and his choral and instrumental ensemble, La Chapelle Harmonique (founded in 2017), are newcomers to the French Baroque scene. Here they offer their second recording dedicated to Johann Sebastian Bach. This stunning album was recorded in the—almost too—generous acoustics of the Royal Chapel of the Palace of Versailles, where this style would have been unheard of in the time of Louis XV.This joyous and original Latin take on Bach’s Motets contrasts with more introspective listening habits. The six Bach Motets are difficult to define. They evoke searching questions with regard to their attribution and interpretation. Were they all truly composed by Bach? Are they intended for an acapella choir (i.e., unaccompanied)? Should they be supported by basso continuo, or even an organ and instruments?Commonly composed to honour the memory of the deceased and to accompany the raising of the corpse, they are works of incredible musical depth that were admired by Mozart. They combine a certain succinctness with a complexity of writing that specifically enhances the vocal text. The present programme also contains echoes of other works, particularly two choral compositions (composed by Bach’s predecessors and reworked by Bach). © François Hudry/Qobuz

Conductor John Eliot Gardiner, said England's Independent newspaper, "has had the last laugh" -- Vol. 1 of his Bach cantata series was named Record of the Year at the 2005 Classic FM Gramophone Awards in London, after the big Deutsche Grammophon label pulled out of the project and dropped Gardiner just before it got underway in 2000. No doubt a bit of gloating is appropriate along with justified satisfaction in a tough job well done -- Gardiner and his Monteverdi Choir and English Baroque Soloists undertook a "Bach cantata pilgrimage," singing all of Bach's cantatas on their liturgically appropriate dates while making a grand tour of acoustically appropriate European churches, many of them with links to the original circumstances in which Bach worked. The recordings, Gardiner said, were "a corollary of the concerts, not their raison d'être" prior to each night's concert, engineers recorded the final rehearsal in situ. By the time these recordings were made in London, the concert series was well under way, and, in the words of bass Dietrich Henschel, the performers "had become spiritually familiar with one another." The results, issued on Gardiner's own SDG label, fully live up to the awards hype. Gardiner's interpretations, though they fall under the historical-performance classification, are personal, subjective, dramatic, and romantic. The program naturally coheres thanks to the common origins of the works in the phases of the liturgical year around which Bach organized his thinking (six cantatas are presented on two discs, three for the Feast of St. John the Baptist in mid-June and three for the first Sunday after Trinity), and every element of the sumptuous booklet presentation contributes to an appreciation of Bach's religious language, as audiences in German churches of the eighteenth century would have understood it. So Gardiner has indeed had the last laugh. But perhaps he would be the first to concede that the difficult birth of this project helped him push classical music toward its future, and even that the music is perhaps better, more urgent, than it might otherwise have been. In place of what would have been a series of implacably standardized albums on Deutsche Grammophon, we will now have releases that are individual, committed, and free. Gardiner's liner notes are taken from journals he wrote during the Bach pilgrimage, and they help bring home the immediacy and excitement of this project. The next step, as recordings like this move online, will be to turn this kind of journal into a blog. The old superstructure of the classical recording industry is collapsing into ruin, but this recording provides some of the clearest testimony yet that new and exciting small enterprises will fill the void. © TiVo

With this set of 12 cantatas, a few of them quite short, Dutch historical-instrument conductor Ton Koopman approaches the end of his monumental traversal of the complete Bach cantata corpus. The cantatas here mostly date from the last two decades of Bach's life. By this time Bach had cantatas from earlier cycles ready for most occasions pertaining to the liturgical year. Several of the works here were written for special occasions -- weddings in at least two cases. The orchestration for the most part is large and varied, with several pieces including trumpets and tympani; the Cantata No. 195, "Dem Gerechten muß das Licht," BWV 195, features a dazzling array of strings, oboe, oboe d'amore, transverse flutes, horns, trumpets, bassoon, timpani, and continuo. The result is that these pieces play to the strengths of Koopman's interpretations: the warm, flawless blend of the Amsterdam Baroque Choir and the sharp differentiation of the instruments within what remains a big, festive sound overall. The famous cantata in this group is the Cantata No. 140, "Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme," BWV 140, with its "Sleepers Awake" chorale and its lovely variations on a pastoral theme. Sample the opening chorus (CD 2, track 1) for an idea of what you can expect in the various large choruses in the lesser-known cantatas in the set: each has its nice textural touches, and not a one gets lost in Koopman's expert interpretation. Hear the "Welt, ade, ich bin dein müde" (World, goodbye, I am tired of you) movement of the Cantata No. 158, "Der Friede sei mit dir," BWV 158, for an example of Koopman at his best: this odd combination of a bass aria with mantra-like interjections of the chorale from the choir's sopranos would throw a lesser conductor. The soloists in this set are also unusually effective. Soprano Sandrine Piau's voice is unhampered by the high pitch Koopman employs, and her soaring lyricism makes an effective foil for the unusual, rather English horn-like timbre of the alto of Bogna Bartosz. There is something a bit cool in Koopman's readings; for deep humanistic insights into Bach's music, the evolving cantata set by John Eliot Gardiner may be preferable. But in the public, festive music heard here, this lion of the historical-performance movement is hard to beat. © TiVo

The labels lately established by performing organizations have mostly been devoted to new releases, but there is a lot to be said for using them to resurrect historical performances and recordings. These tend to be ones that have hung in people's memories for years, well after newer recordings have become available. There couldn't be a better example than this, the first historical release from the Bayerische Staatsoper Recordings label. It reproduces a 1984 live performance of Mendelssohn's Elijah, Op. 70 (as Elias, in the original German) from the Nationaltheater München, with the Bayerisches Staatsorchester conducted by Wolfgang Sawallisch and the Chor des städtischen Musikvereins zu Düsseldorf. (The latter got involved because the Bayerischer Staatsopernchor was unavailable, but the choir acquits itself very well, unsurprisingly inasmuch as Mendelssohn himself was one of its former directors.) Sawallisch was noted for his way with Mendelssohn, to which he brought a noble Germanic tinge that makes a nice contrast with the usual English performances. He never did better than here, and upon hearing that tapes of this performance had been preserved, he is said to have exclaimed, "Thank God they're safe!" The soloists, led by baritone Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau in the title role and tenor Peter Schreier as Obadiah, are superb. Another attraction is the hardbound booklet, delving deep into Mendelssohn's philosophical place in German society (really philosophical -- Hegel and his dialectic come into it). The live sound from 1984 is impressive indeed, with crowd noise kept to an absolute minimum in a superb display of discipline. A wonderful historical reissue that catches the intense drama in Mendelssohn's oratorio.© James Manheim /TiVo

As in his previous volumes of Bach cantatas in this series, John Eliot Gardiner brings a velvet-gloved, yet iron-fisted approach to Bach. His tempos are supple and his lines are radiant, but the singleness of vision and strength of will are inflexible. As always, the Monteverdi Choir and English Baroque Soloists are both formally and expressively under his firm control. This doesn't mean Gardiner won't allow his vocal soloists considerable interpretive leeway. Soprano Gillian Keith and bass Peter Harvey are marvelously free in the duet between the Soul and Jesus in Tritt auf die Glaubensbahn (Walk the Path of Faith) (BWV 152). But the musical context is wholly Gardiner's. The packaging and production values are, as always, superlative. Recorded live in St. Bartholomew's in New York on the Sunday after Christmas, December 31, 2000, the sound here is ideally balanced, perfectly clear, and utterly natural. Unlike most volumes in this series, however, this is a single-disc package, and so it makes a good introduction to both Bach's cantatas and to Gardiner's approach to them for buyers who would like to test the waters without investing too much money. © TiVo

Are these the best, the deepest, the profoundest -- in a word, the greatest -- recordings of these four Bach cantatas ever made? What a silly question! Indeed, what an utterly beside-the-point question and surely a question that neither the conductor, the performers, or even the composer would ever have thought to ask. The real question is: are these recordings musically, emotionally, and spiritually honest recordings, that is, do they capture the true essence of the works? And the answer to that question is a grateful "yes." While John Eliot Gardiner has not always been ideally matched with the repertoire he's recorded -- does anyone recall his Janácek Sinfonetta or Rachmaninov Symphonic Dances? -- he has always been ideally suited to the music of the Baroque -- who cannot recall his Monteverdi Vespers or his Handel Messiah? -- and his series of Bach cantatas has been as good as the best things he's ever recorded. In these performances with the Monteverdi Choir and the English Baroque Soloists recorded in New York on Christmas 2000, Gardiner has created recordings that may or may not be in the same league with Richter, Harnoncourt, Leonhardt, or Koopman but that are certainly absolutely musically, emotionally, and spiritually as one with the works. The beauty of the melodies, the clarity of the part writing, the rightness of the harmonies, the lightness of the rhythms, the color of the scoring? All are as one with the music. The joy, the sorrow, the exaltation, the anguish, the excitement? All are as one with the texts. The awe, the dread, the glory, the wonder, the bliss? All are as one with Bach's fusion of music and texts. Are these then the best recordings of these four Bach cantatas ever made? Does it really matter? Anyone who loves these cantatas will love this disc. © TiVo

Aside from the gargantuan logistical problems of moving a chamber orchestra, chorus, soloists, and conductor, plus recording equipment with engineers and producers every week, the aesthetic challenges of John Eliot Gardiner's Bach cantata pilgrimage must have been colossal. Imagine: every week the musicians had to prepare and present three or more cantatas in performances that would bear repeated listenings at home. And yet Gardiner and his forces seem to have succeeded every time. In the two-disc volume 25 of the series, Gardiner includes three cantatas for the fifth Sunday after Easter and three for the Sunday after Ascension Day, and, as always before, they succeed in not only performing the works with smooth professionalism but also ardent enthusiasm. Take just In allen meinen Taten, BWV 97. Its nine movements are wonderfully varied in tone and setting, but also totally unified through musical means. Gardiner and his forces capture both the variety and the unity of the work. Bass Stephen Loges' melancholy aria "Es kan mir nichts" with obbligato bassoon, tenor Steven Davislim's jaunty aria "Ich trause" with virtuoso solo violin, alto Robin Tyson's haunting recitative Er wolle meiner Sünden, and soprano Katharine Fuge's joyous aria "Ihm hab ich mich ergeben" with a pair of obbligato oboes all form part of an organic whole here. Recorded in vivid sound, these performances will be mandatory listening for anyone who reveres Bach's cantatas. © TiVo

Download not available